


How to Put Out a Fire

by abcame



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Angst, Death, Firefighters, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Mako-centric, Multi, Origin Story, Poor Mako (Avatar), Pre-Canon, Violence, boo cop mako, firefighter Mako, kind of an AU, this is kind of painful im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29595984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abcame/pseuds/abcame
Summary: In which Mako watches his parents get consumed in flame and learns how to never let that happen again
Relationships: Bolin & Mako (Avatar), Mako & Naoki (Avatar), mako/parents, mako/san
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	How to Put Out a Fire

**Author's Note:**

> so this is basically the origin story of a firefighter mako au, inspired by this lovely art on twit https://twitter.com/makosgloves/status/1363290159610007554?s=20
> 
> this contains pretty graphic descriptions of self-hatred, guilt, grief, and death, so!
> 
> beta'd by blue<3

“MOM? DAD?” Mako shouted desperately. No response. Maybe they just had been knocked unconscious... yeah, that must be it. He’d try shouting again. 

“MOM! DAD! WAKE UP, PLEASE! ITS—ITS ME!”

Silence. Well, silence, other than the whirring of flames all throughout the alley. 

They were everywhere, blinding and hot, surrounding the place where he knew his parents to be, forming a wall between them. They were growing and creeping and soon would completely engulf his parents and then they wouldn’t be _just_ unconscious, anymore. He had to save them.

Mako looked down at his hands. He was a firebender—well, a full fledged firebender wasn’t the right word, maybe, since he was only 8 and could do little more than hold a flame and throw an angry punch, but necessity is the mother of invention. Maybe some innate instinct would show itself, in this desperate moment of need. 

Mako raised his shaking hands and closed his eyes, trying to focus. He’d had no formal training, but he’d read a few books. He knew a little about chi, about what made his bending tick. He swept his arms apart, picturing the flames parting in waves. When he opened his eyes, though, he was facing just as vast of a glowing orange ocean as before. 

_“Try again Mako, you can do this,”_ he thought to himself. Truthfully, he didn’t know if he could do it, but he couldn’t afford not to. Again, he swept his arms widely, almost in a swimming-like motion, but the flames only seemed to burn brighter. 

There was smoke in his lungs and the coughing was making it hard to focus. He became all too aware of how much he was sweating and the burning of his eyes. He bit his lip hard to bring himself back into focus and tried again. Nothing happened. 

Again and again and again the young boy tried to mimic the motions he’d read about, to focus on his chi, began to pray to Agni, the spirits, anyone who would listen, to let him save his parents. His breaths were becoming shorter and shallower and he started to feel tears sting his eyes. What did the books say again? Should he sweep his arms inward or out? Shit, he was so stupid, why couldn’t he remember? He could hear himself yelling but couldn’t even comprehend the words he was saying.

_“Please, please, please, wake up! I need you!”_

As his panic grew, he decided he couldn’t just stand there, flailing his arms, anymore. If he couldn’t part the flames, he’d just have to go through them. Maybe his chi could protect him, or something. It didn’t really matter though, didn’t matter if he got burned, he just had to do something. Just as he was stepping forward, hands about to cross into the flames, they completely disappeared. Evaporated into thin air, as if they were never there. 

With no more crimson wall shielding him, Mako was forced to face the figures before him. 

He didn’t notice falling to the ground. He didn’t register the pain when he hit the concrete so hard he put holes in his pants and drew blood from his knees. He didn’t realize he was grabbing onto his parents and shaking them, begging them to wake up, saying that it was him, Mako, their son, and that Bolin was waiting for them, too. 

Suddenly, a large hand came down on his shoulder, and Mako instantly recoiled, screaming, “GET _AWAY_ FROM THEM!” flames already drawn in his hands. 

The hand withdrew as he met the boy’s eyes, ringed with red and alight with so much anger and pain. The man took several steps back, hands held up in surrender, and knelt on the ground. 

“Okay,” he began, his voice gentle. “I won’t come near them. Are they okay?” he asked, feigning ignorance. Mako stared back at the man, the angle in his brow softening only a little in his confusion. 

The man, still holding his hands up and still at a far distance, asked, “Can you check their pulse for me?” 

Mako nodded minutely. He kept his right fist burning, but snuffed out the left flame, instead bringing those fingers to his dad’s neck, then his mom’s. Nothing. Mako began to gnaw on his already bloodied bottom lip. Maybe he just couldn’t feel the pulse on their necks. Yeah, that had to be it. He’d try their wrists, instead.

As Mako moved to check their wrists, the man scooched just a little closer. 

Again, there was no beating under their skin. Fresh tears welled in his eyes, the numbness from adrenaline fading, and the boy rushed to wipe the tears away, forgetting to keep his flame burning. _If he had only been able to get to them maybe they wouldn’t be…_

The man scooched closer, again. 

Desperately, Mako grabbed for his mother’s hand. He held it to his face the way she always would. The way that always made him feel safe. Suddenly and all at once, he wished the flames had consumed him, too. His chest heaved, a guttural and wounded cry wracking through his body at last.

“I’m so sorry,” the man whispered. 

Mako opened his eyes to the quiet, gentle voice. This time, when he saw how close the man was, he didn’t jerk away. If this man had wanted to hurt him, he would have by now and besides, Mako had no more fight left in him. 

“I t—I tried to save them,” he croaked between sobs. “I should have been able to save them.” 

The whole scene was tragic, but that was the moment the man’s heart really broke.

He shook his head, tears welling in his own eyes that he willed to stay away. “This isn’t your fault, kid. It took 4 of us to clear this alleyway. You’re just a boy.”

_Just a boy._

It wasn’t until that moment that Mako really _looked_ at the man. He noticed his read suit, the RCFD embroidered on the front. He was a firefighter. 

The man sat there with Mako for a while. He cried and wailed, whispering repeated apologies to the static figures. Eventually, the man put his hand on the boy’s shoulder again, and this time he leaned against him, like he’d lost all will to stay up himself. The other firefighters stood and watched in reverent silence. Only once the sobbing subsided to sniffles, did the man speak again. 

“Come on, let me show you something.” Mako looked up in surprise. Show him something? What could this man do or say or show that would fix _this_? 

He stood and held out his hand for Mako. “Would you like to see how we clear flames away? In case you ever need it again?” 

Mako nodded immediately, taking the hand. He had to know. He had to learn everything because he was never going to let anyone he cared about ever get hurt again. He’d keep them safe.

“Alright, so you want to start with your hands up like this, okay? And you see my feet?” 

Mako mimicked his stance perfectly, nodding once he was set. 

“Hey, good job! Alright, now, what do you know about the breath of fire?”

The firefighter continued the brief lesson, explaining everything Mako would need. At the end, he lit a small fire for the boy to practice on. Mako parted it perfectly, but it was not lost on the man that he flinched away when the flame lit. 

“That was great! You’re a natural, kid.” He cupped the boy’s shoulder again. Mako smiled weakly, almost imperceptibly. The man knelt down again so he could look him in the eyes, which he regretted almost immediately. He’d never seen such fear in the eyes of someone so young.

“If you need anything, you know where to find us,” he said sincerely, tapping the RCFD on his left breast. Mako nodded. 

Just then, police sirens blared in the distance, bringing Mako back to the sick reality. His eyes went wide. _Bolin._ He had to get to him before someone else did. Just before bolting out of the alley, Mako knelt back down to his parents. Carefully, he unwrapped his fathers red scarf and wrapped it around his own neck. He whispered his last goodbyes, and nodded to the man, hoping it conveyed his thankfulness, before disappearing around the corner.

Later, when Bolin would ask to tell him about that night, he wouldn’t tell him about the flames, or smoke, or what their parents looked like after. Instead, he’d tell him about the moment the smoke cleared and the people in the red suits that had come to help. 

**Author's Note:**

> firefighter mako can rlly be so personal. hope yall enjoyed !


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